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As hour five in a car with three American girls and one Spanish guy crept by, I wanted to open the door and just bail, taking my chances that another car on the highway could run me over and squish me dead.

The girls hadn't shut up for two seconds the whole trip, and from what I could gather, they were idiots. Absolute. Idiots. And the guy. He had an accent that was so Southern and thick that I could barely make out two words, which made me feel like the most fraudulent Spanish major in the world. I was trapped in my own small version of hell, and was beginning to get carsick on top of it all.

"How the FUCK am I going to survive an entire month living and working with these pathetic people if I can't even take five hours in a car with them?!" I texted my friend, seriously hostile and, now, nauseous.

I clutched my phone for dear life and unlocked the screen about a million times, waiting for his response. My question, though clearly lacking in maturity, was a serious one. And I hoped to God my Whatsapp would quickly convert itself into a fountain of digital wisdom... otherwise, this threatened to be one of the worst months of my young adult life.

When my phone vibrated and the little green symbol appeared in the upper left corner, I got so excited I accidentally almost showed human emotion and was invited to join in on the IQ-lowering conversation the girls were now having about some inane culture shock commiseration. His response was only a sentence or three, but I was not left disappointed. Not at all.

"Be so busy doing your own thing and being 100% yourself that you forget to give two shits about what anyone else thinks about it. See it as a 30 day adventure; a game. Have fun with it."

I grinned a sly grin, the nauseous anxiety suddenly evaporated, and wrote back, "CHALLENGE ACCEPTED."

And that's how what I'd dreaded would be one of the worst months of my existence turned into one of the very best months I've ever had.

From that moment on, it wasn't about pleasing anyone nor judging anyone. It was about being authentically me - and not holding back one damn bit. I sang the narwhal song at the top of my lungs randomly. I threw my kids a pizza party one night and bought them Popsicles. I let my kids take 30 minute naps in class when they successfully created a valid argument for it. I taught half a class in my bikini. I made Harlem Shake videos with them at 2am and helped them sneak out of their rooms when the mean lady was on night watch. I taught my kids the "Can't Hug Every Cat" song for a camp-wide performance.

Basically, I made things as weird as I possibly could, and the kids LOVED it (and, quite by accident, learned a lot in the process). The other American girls, of course, thought I was bat-shit crazy, and they were probably right. But those girls aren't getting calls from their campers four months later begging for their address so they can send them Christmas presents and visit them on the other side of the country soon.

In those thirty days I learned things about myself and my potential that amazed me. For the first time, I was being 100% true to myself. And for the first time, I felt 100% adored and valued – all for just being vibrant, unique little me.

When I got back to Madrid, this glow continued for a month or two, but fearing it might fade, I seriously considered getting a tattoo to mark how important the experience had been for me and to remind me of what I was capable of. I never got it, and as feared, the camp high began to fade.

I've been conscious of this progressive fading for the past month and a half, but it wasn't until this week that I actually forgot what it even felt like and promptly crawled into a hole of blahness. I resigned myself to feeling victimized and hopeless. I resorted to incessant complaining and refusing to take any responsibility in the matter.

"I'm surrounded by idiotic Americans and inept teachers. I feel like I'm considered no more intelligent than a circus monkey, doing pointless tasks just to get me out of the way. What a waste of my abilities. What a waste of my time. Why can't every job be like my Summer Camp job? What if that was just a once-in-a-lifetime flash? Maybe THIS is what life really is."

Funks are normal, but when this dismal view didn't clear up a few days after its onset, I knew there was only one thing that could help. I texted my friend asking for a refresher of what he'd told me that day during the interminable car ride.

The response was immediate, and even pithier than the original, but just as perspective altering. "Do your thing and don't worry about anyone else. We both know what you're capable of."

That sly grin from before snuck back on my face and I had to laugh at myself for thinking this situation was so unsalvageable. I'd completely forgotten about how I'd felt in the car on my way to camp! That experience wasn't a unique, magical one that could never be repeated. No, it was a conscious shift in perspective that set everything in motion and made the month what it was. All it took was a weekly dose of playful "fuck it" when I got weird stares from those who just didn't understand.

I only have one week of school left before winter break, so this bit of wisdom will have to settle itself in my back pocket and perhaps peek out occasionally as I make plans for exactly where I'll travel and what I'll do for my two week vacation. But come January 7th, it will be my best buddy. It will come with me to school everyday, just like my tiny pink stuffed animal, Mrs. Hippo did my whole 3rd grade year (I've always been strange).

This past week before that text everything felt so dark and I felt so small. So to have awoken from that place into the life I currently have was like opening up the blinds, thinking you'll see you're in a rundown inner city motel, but instead realizing you are in the Maldives in a little guest house on a sparkling spring mid-morning.

Since feeling the sunkissed again, I've asked myself what exactly went south to make everything I'd worked for fade, and the answer was terribly obvious. The fading began the week I stopped writing gratitudes. Maybe that's what I'll make my New Year's Resolution: to always take time out of every day or two to listen to music and write the little things that made me smile during the day. It changes everything. It changes the way you think.

When you live in another language, you get really great at describing things, because often you don't know the specific word you're looking for, so you have to get creative so the other person can understand you. Imagine not knowing the word for "key" and "forget." Now imagine you've left your keys at home and need to tell your roommate this. You can't say, "I forgot my keys." Instead, you write, "I am unable open the door as the device that unlocks it is in my room!" Sure, it's a little awkward, but they get your meaning and let you in!

It works the same way with keeping a physical running list of gratitudes. You begin to go about your day LOOKING for things that you can add to your notebook later. A simple cup of coffee becomes steamy, cozy and reassuring as you begin to play with words for the entry you'll write about it. A glance from somebody important to you becomes a suspended moment in your day in which you felt inexplicably privy to a fanciful secret only the two of you share. And when you get really good at it, even annoying or seemingly negative things begin to expose their hidden silver lining to you...

Right now? Right now I'm grateful that my stay in the dark hole only lasted for four days. I'm grateful I have a friend who is patient with me and supportive of me and knows just what to say when I most need it. I'm grateful for the one teacher I work with who truly values me and gives me big Spanish kisses every week, thanking me for being such a good teacher to her students. I'm grateful for my home life and how my roommates almost even feel like family. I'm grateful for being financially responsible for the first time since when I used to hoard money from babysitting. I'm grateful for the moments when I feel like my fingers are the story tellers and I go to reread what they've just written and don't remember writing a word of it. I'm grateful for my family and friends in the US who still talk to me all of the time despite the fact I haven't been home in almost a year and a half. And I'm ever so grateful for the sprinkles of top of it all on the other side of the towers that push me to continue growing and make me so happy.